Broken Mirrors
by Toni42
Summary: When Pepper left for London on a business trip, Bruce went to catch up on Betty, Thor returned to Asgard, Clint and Natasha were assigned to a mission and Steve and Sam went off in search of the Winter Soldier, Tony did not expect to find said soldier sitting at his kitchen table in the dark, holding his broken metal arm out to him. "I don't know how to fix it myself."


He ducked, the bullet zooming over his head and embedding itself into the wall behind him. Sprinting forward with practiced precision, he jumped up, spun around mid-air and kicked the guy in the head, knocking him unconscious almost instantly.

Landing on the ground in a crouch, fingerless, gloved hand on the floor and legs spread apart to keep his balance, he glanced up as the guy hit the ground with a _thud,_ feeling his lips turn up in a smirk. The gun fell from the guys motionless hand, clattering onto the ground beside his unconscious form.

Bucky straightened, absently rubbing the quickly forming bruise on his jaw and wincing. It was raining, puddles forming on the sidewalks and miniature rivers flowing down into the sewers. His hair was plastered to his face, and he whipped it away, rainwater seeping into his jacket and socks.

He'd just been heading back to his crappy apartment (which he was probably going to lose next month because of taxes), when he'd been ambushed by six armed men. HYDRA soldiers. They must still be looking for him, even after six months.

Of course they were, he thought bitterly. They didn't want to lose their precious little puppet.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

While he'd been able to take down the HYDRA soldiers pretty easily, they'd mostly been aiming at his arm. His metal arm, to be exact. His strongest, always-there weapon.

It stopped working halfway through the fight.

Metal plates were bent and chipped, wires stuck out, torn and ripped, sparks flew and the only thing holding one of his fingers to the palm was a single wire that looked like it was about to snap.

Tucking his metal arm close to his chest to avoid damaging it more, Bucky quickly made his way out of the alley where the fight had taken place, less there be backup on the way or any of those goons woke up. His speed-walking turned into a jog, then into full out running, head ducked and hair blown back against the harsh wind. Thunder boomed, echoing across the sky and bouncing off of buildings, followed by a flash of forked lightning.

The rain fell harder, icy and sharp against fragile human skin, hitting the exposed parts of his metal arm and reminding him of throwing stones at empty cans of beans when he was a kid, laughing as Steve kept hitting everything but the can, including the neighbors cat-

Bucky shook his head, pushing the memory to the back of his mind. It had been six months since he saved Rogers from drowning. Six months since he'd ran away from HYDRA and began agonizingly slowly picking up the pieces of a broken mirror.

Because he wanted to see his reflection again. Even if there were cracks and blood stains.

Shaking his head again in an attempt to _focus_ , Bucky let out an annoyed grunt and plopped down in a wet, metal chair outside a closed restaurant, under one of those blanket-roofs he couldn't remember the name of, ignoring how the chair made him even more cold.

He looked back at his arm, wincing at the state of it, flesh-hand hovering over it uncertainly.

He didn't know how to fix it.

He didn't know how to fix his own goddamn _arm_.

The mechanics at HYDRA would just do it for him when he got back from missions, so they hadn't seen the point of showing him what to do if it were ever broken. Let alone this badly.

Bucky sighed, leaning his head back so his neck was resting- rather uncomfortably- on the metal chair, closing his eyes and feeling a raindrop or two hitting them.

What was he going to do? He couldn't exactly go around with only one arm or, even worse, a limp metal one. HYDRA would find him in a heartbeat.

Then his eyes snapped open.

 _What if I told you that, in a few short years, your automobile won't even have to touch the ground at all?_

He blinked rapidly, standing swiftly from his chair so fast that it toppled over with a _clang!,_ his broken metal arm dangling uselessly from his shoulder. He looked up, squinting through the rain as his eyes scanned the skyline, the memory pushing itself into his head.

 _With Stark gravatic-reversion technology, you'll be able to do just that!_

 _"Holy cow!" Bucky exclaimed, as the car began to hover on the stage, Connie and Bonnie looking at it in wonder, a much tinier version of Rogers-_ Steve- _standing next to him-_

Bucky's head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging, and he blinked back to reality, stunned. He blinked a couple more times, his flesh-hand raised. Had he just slapped himself?

Yes. Yes, he had.

Shaking his head, Bucky looked back towards the skyline, realizing for the first time that he was standing right in front of a skyscraper, the name _STARK_ written across the top.

Howard Stark had been able to make a car fly, even if only for a few moments. Wasn't he also the maker of his metal arm or something? And wasn't his son- Iron Man- a genius too? He would have to be, after all, if he had created such a suit.

Bucky bit his lip, looking from his broken arm to Stark Tower, then back again.

He didn't have a choice, did he? Even if Howard's son (what was his name again? Tyler?) tried to kill him, it was worth a shot, right?

... Right?

* * *

Tony was tired.

Pepper was in London on a business trip, and Bruce had left for Florida to see Betty Ross and wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning. Clint and Natasha were on some sort of 'top-secret' mission (not like Tony couldn't have just hacked into SHIELD and found out what they were doing if he wanted to), Thor was in Asgard and Steve and his new friend Sam were out hunting down Barnes.

So that left Tony all alone in the tower with no one but his robots and JARVIS, but he'd decided to work on some upgrades for the AI so he was temporarily 'sleeping.' He'd been up the past couple days, mainly because no one was there to drag him to bed, and he was really starting to feel like collapsing now.

But he didn't want to deal with the nightmares.

So he worked.

Nearly jumping out of his skin when his phone began ringing, Tony dropped his wrench on his toe, swore at the top of his lungs and scrambled over to the table where the rectangular device was vibrating, tripping over his own feet and hitting his chin on the edge of the table, biting his tongue and swearing some more.

Reaching up and grabbing the phone, Tony rolled onto his back with a wince and placed it to his ear, grumbling an annoyed "Hello?"

 _"Hey, Tony, just calling to check up on you."_ Pepper's voice said from the other end. " _Are you sleeping alright?"_

"Er..."

Pepper sighed. " _I'll take that as a no. Are you at least eating?"_

Tony bit his lip, his eyes trailing over to the clock on the wall. It was currently half past two in the morning. When was the last time he'd eaten? He thinks he had a waffle last afternoon...

Pepper sighed again. _"Tony..."_

Tony winced at her scolding tone. "Sorry?"

 _"Go eat something right now. You can continue whatever your doing once you've got something to digest."_

Tony sighed in defeat. "Yes, ma'am."

 _"Good. Please take care of yourself, Tony."_

"Alright."

She hung up.

Tony sighed again, slumping onto the floor and letting the phone slide out of his hand. He was pretty hungry, now that he thought of it. A bite to eat won't hurt.

Climbing to his feet and setting the phone back on the table, Tony stretched, popping his back, before beginning to make his way upstairs. He could hear thunder booming outside the tower, and had a brief mental image of Thor swinging his hammer around merrily, singing _Let It Go_ at the top of his lungs, lightning flashing around him in time with his song.

Wow. He _really_ needed a nap.

Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly as he entered the kitchen, letting out a jaw-breaking yawn, not bothering to turn on the lights. He opened the fridge, squinting in the light, and pulled out the things he needed to make a butter and ham sandwich.

He spread the butter on the bread first, then _carefully_ added three bits of ham, ever so gently resting the other bread-slice on top. Smiling happily at his work, Tony put the things away, shut the fridge with his leg and picked up his sandwich, bringing it up to his mouth to take a huge bite as he turned around to head back to his lab-

Only to drop it onto the floor and let out a loud yelp, jumping back and smacking his butt on the counter.

Bucky flinched, a small puddle forming around him, face bloody and bruised, hugging his metal arm, which he had detached, to his chest protectively, sitting at the kitchen table.

They stared at each other for a moment, the former with a hand over his glowing Arc Reactor (the only light in the room and he'd probably not have noticed Bucky at all if it hadn't landed on him) as he tried to bring his breathing back to normal, the latter quickly deciding this had been a _very_ bad idea.

"Er..." Bucky said, watching the smaller man in slight concern. He looked like he was about to pass out (and he did _not_ want to be responsible for doing that to Howard Stark' only kid). Awkwardly, he held his metal arm out towards the mechanic.

"I don't know how to fix it myself."

Tony blinked, his mouth hanging open, starring at Bucky with wide eyes.

"Wait, that's my dads design?" Tony asked, suddenly snapping out of his shock, and Bucky nodded hesitantly, slightly relieved when the genius broke out into a large grin. " _Damn,_ he built things to last!"

Tony snatched the metal arm out of Bucky's only hand, holding it up in a position so that his Arc Reactors glow hit just the right places and gave him a good look at the thing. His eyebrows rose as he took in the damage. "Been in a bit of a scuffle, haven't we?"

Bucky gave him a sheepish grin, and Tony began rambling on about things he only half understood. Bucky allowed himself to take the billionaire in. He actually looked a bit like Howard, the same nose and eye shape, and had obviously obtained his brain and love of creating gadgets.

While Bucky hadn't exactly been close to Howard, only having met with him about four times and talked to him twice, he'd rather liked the man. He'd had a sense of humor and he often at times had found himself on the floor laughing his guts out when around him.

These memories were fogged and unclear, but Bucky still found his mouth curling into a small smile as he watched Tony ramble on, examining his arm in various spots by the light of his Reactor (he'd need to ask about that) and going on about how he could update it.

Then Tony was walking out of the kitchen, sandwich forgotten on the floor, and waving for Bucky to follow him. He scrambled to his feet, pulling his dripping jacket over his armless shoulder so it didn't fall off and drag behind him, and followed the genius into the living room, down some stairs and into what could only be his lab.

Bucky's first thought was _Ohmygod, robot_. A robotic arm beeped at Tony affectionately, handing him some sort of black, gooey substance in a cup. Tony patted the robots arm with a "Thank you" and sat it next to eight others on a table. It was rather cute.

Tony continued rambling on, more to himself then Bucky, and was soon taking the destroyed arm apart. Bucky sat down in a swirly chair, leaning back and watching. Surprisingly, he didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.

After an hour, Bucky found himself dozing off. He let his head fall onto his mangled shoulder with a small sigh through his nose, the last thing he saw being the still rambling Tony Stark, screwdriver in hand and focus completely on the metal arm, saying something about hidden guns.

Bucky fell asleep.

* * *

It was six in the morning when Tony finished repairing and upgrading the metal arm. It was when he had leaned back to admire his work when he spotted Bucky curled up in a chair, fast asleep, still rather wet.

He almost slapped himself.

The Winter Soldier was in his tower.

James Barnes was in his home.

James _Bucky_ Barnes was in his lab.

 _Steve Rogers best friend was sitting right in front of him, fast asleep, and it hadn't even crossed his mind once that he should CALL SOMEONE._

He's an idiot.

He also blames his dad.

So, shaking his head, Tony grabbed his phone and opened his contacts, scrolling down and tapping on 'MURICA. The phone ringed and Tony tapped his foot impatiently, glancing at the sleeping Bucky as if afraid he would disappear.

Hopefully he won't do so without his arm, Tony thought, putting a hand on said metal arm.

 _"Rogers."_

"Hey, Steve." Tony said, glancing at Bucky again to make sure he wasn't about to wake up. That would probably be bad. Just to be sure he doesn't accidentally wake the soldier up, Tony slipped out the lab, closing the sound proof glass door behind him and watching the sleeping soldier through it. Ha. The _Sleeping Soldier._

Steve sighed. What was it with people sighing at him over the phone?

 _"Tony, I don't have time to listen to your nonsense. Me and Sam might have a lead on Bucky-"_

"Really?" Tony cut him off, slightly (although he'd never admit it) hurt at his Captains dismissive tone. Sure, he'd prank called him a couple times, but this was important! "Where do you think he might be?" He glanced at the sleeping man again, allowing himself a smug grin.

 _"Huh? Oh, uh, we've got a lead in Seattle-"_

"Seattle?" Tony gasped. Wow, there was no way this guy _wasn't_ sending them on a wild goose chase. "Cap, you don't wanna go to Seattle. Come back to New York."

 _"New York?"_ Steve said, now sounding pretty confused. " _But, Tony, this could be it! Bucky could be here-"_

"Steve-"

 _"-I've lost him once, there's no way I'm going to lose him again-"_

"Cap-"

 _"-I could be_ so close _-"_

"STEVE, HE'S HERE!"

He was met by silence. After a moment, Steve spoke again.

"Here? _You- You've found Bucky?!"_

"Well, it's more like he found _me_." Tony explained. "He broke into the Tower last night and asked me to fix up that metal arm of his. Looks like he was in a fight or something. He fell asleep while I was repairing it; still is."

Tony leaned against the glass, waiting for Steve to say something. He had no idea what the man was going through. If he watched Rhodey, Bruce or Clint die the way Steve had watched Bucky, only to find out he was alive but _brainwashed_ , he would have probably broke down into tears long before Steve had (well, at least, he's _assumed_ the mans had a little sob-fest). And he'd probably do what Steve was doing right now; out there looking for them.

 _"I'll be there as fast as I can."_

Tony smiled. "Couple hours then?"

 _"At most."_ Steve said, and Tony's grin widened. _"Also, er, can you make sure he's okay? You said he'd been in a fight..."_

He almost slapped himself again. "Yeah, of course, Cap. I've got a med-kit kicking about somewhere. Don't worry, your buddy's in good hands."

 _"Thank you, Tony. You've got no idea how much this means to me."_

"Just be happy he's finally decided to show himself. I'm pretty sure the only reason he showed up at all was because he needed his arm repaired." Tony looked back into the lab, watching as Bucky began to stir awake. "He's waking up now. I'll get some food in him too; he's too skinny to be healthy, despite the muscles. See you in a couple hours?"

 _"You can count on it. Thank you_ so _much for taking care of him, Tony."_

"Hey, you know you're all allowed to stay as long as you like. See ya, Capsicile."

Stuffing the phone back in his pocket, Tony reentered the lab, as Bucky sat up fully, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Good, you're up!" he said, giving the soldier one of his award-winning grins. "Your arms done. Com'ere so I can test it out."

Bucky blinked at him dumbly for a moment, before standing up and walking over to the table where his new and improved arm was.

Tony held it up with a "Ta-da!" and Bucky gave him a thankful smile, setting his jacket on the table and allowing the genius to reattach the arm. Once it was on, the red star glowed slightly and the gears whirred, before dulling down to a small, unnoticeable hum.

Bucky bent his arm, flexing the fingers experimentally. He picked up one of those oil-smoothie things that the robot had given Tony, grinning when the arm responded even better then before, possibly even better then a real arm would have. It's sense of touch was _fantastic_ as well.

"This is... this is _brilliant_." Bucky breathed, looking at his new arm in wonder. "Thank you."

Tony shrugged. "No problem. It's lighter, faster, can be taken off easier and harder to be taken off accidentally. The strength is better, and there's also a machine gun in the forearm."

"M-Machine gun?"

"Yeah. Nice touch, right?"

"... Defiantly."

"So, are you hungry? I know I am. Seeing as you, you know, destroyed my sandwich..."

"Sorry about that." Bucky apologized, smiling sheepishly, as he began to follow the still-talking Tony up the stairs and into the kitchen.

"I want waffles. And coffee. And blueberry's. Blueberry coffee?"

"You mean blueberry waffles?"

"No, actually."

Tony gave the soldier a grin and turned on the coffee machine, getting out the waffle mix and a packet of blueberry's that he always kept stashed around. Bucky sat down at the table, giving him a quiet thank you when he was handed a coffee.

They ate their waffles in an almost awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to say. What do you say to someone who you've been hiding from (well, not specifically Tony, but you get the point) for six months, broke into their tower and fallen asleep in their lab as they repaired your arm?

When they'd finished, Tony dumped the plates and cups in the sink to be washed later, and turned around to lean against the counter. "So... what happened to your face?"

Bucky blinked at him dumbly. "Huh?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You know, your face? How'd you get all beaten up?"

"Oh, uh... well, HYDRA's kind of hunting me down..."

"Ah. Say no more." Tony turned around, rummaging through the cupboard and pulled out a medical kit. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Bucky, setting the med-kit on the table.

"Is anything broken?"

"No, just some cuts and bruises." Bucky said, looking at the med-kit to Tony in both surprise and hesitation. Tony opened the kit and pulled out some disinfectant, dabbing it onto a cotton bud.

"This might sting a little." he said, before slowly beginning to clean the soldiers face. Bucky let out a low hiss, clenching his teeth as his cuts gave a dull throb, but he made no move to pull away or stop the genius, so he continued.

There was a rather nasty cut on his forehead, right over a purple bruise, and quite a couple on his real arm, so Tony put some neon colored band aids on them, the one on his forehead bright pink.

As Tony began packing the medical supplies away, Bucky bit his lip, clearing his throat awkwardly. "So... uh, I should probably get going-"

"Wait, what?" Tony said, immediately feeling stupid afterwards. He wasn't really one to say _wait, what_ of all things. "You can't leave."

Bucky frowned at him suspiciously, visibly tensing. "Why... ?"

"Because- er- because... there's a cat in the vents!" blurted Tony. Bucky's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he looked up at the ceiling as if expecting to see a cat dangling from it.

"A- A _cat?"_

"Er... yeah... a cat... Clint- Hawkeye- had brought it home and taken it up into the vents and kinda... lost it..." Tony lied, swallowing. "I mean, can you help me... you know... get it out?"

"Of course!" Bucky said immediately. "I love cats! Where's an entrance to your vents?"

Tony pointed to the one above the fridge, and Bucky clambered up onto it, holding onto one of the high cupboards to help keep balance, before squeezing into the vents. Tony gave a relieved sigh. That should keep him occupied until Steve got here.

He packed away the rest of the med-kit and put it back in the cupboard, looking around the kitchen and wondering what he should do. With Steve and Sam in such a hurry, they'd probably break the sound barrier and be here within four hours (three, actually, since it had been an hour since he'd called Steve) and Bruce had told him he wouldn't be back until at least eleven am.

So, nursing a glass of scotch, Tony settled down on the living room couch and turned on the TV.

At least he'd ate.

* * *

Steve didn't even bother pressing the button to call the elevator when he burst through the front doors of Stark/Avengers Tower at exactly twenty to ten, instead barging through the door to the staircase and racing up them. Distantly, he heard Sam 'swearing' behind him (he knew that Sam was afraid to swear around him, in fact he found it rather amusing. So instead of swearing, he'd shout things like "Honey Ice Tea!" Tony was still teasing him for that one).

Thanks to his enhanced body, taking the stairs was three times faster then taking the elevator, which he was pretty sure Sam was taking, so he burst into the Avengers sitting room barely over a minute later.

Tony, dozing on the couch, jerked awake with a snort as the door slammed shut behind the super soldier, looking around with bleary eyes. When they landed on Steve, he barely at time to blink before the Captain was asking questions.

"Where is he? Is he okay? Why didn't you call me _immediately_? Why are you sleeping? Has he left? Oh, please God, don't tell me he's gone again-"

"Hey, Steve, calm down. Bucky's still here." Tony didn't know when he'd stopped calling him Barnes, let alone started calling him _Bucky_ , but he decided to brush it off. "He's in-"

" _I've found him!_ " a muffled voice called, making both Steve and Tony jump.

"Found him?" Tony said. "Found who?"

" _The cat!"_

"The- The _cat_?!" Tony spluttered, jumping to his feet and starring at the ceiling in disbelief. "There's actually a _cat_ in my _vents?!"_

 _"Yeah!"_ Bucky shouted, not seeming to realize that Tony hadn't actually thought there was a cat in the vents and that he'd probably been tricked. _"He's so cute!"_

Tony gaped at the ceiling. "There's a _cat_..." he repeated slowly, as if trying to get his brain to process what was being said. "... in my _vents_... I'm blaming Clint. That's the only logical explanation here."

A grate was kicked off the ceiling, landing on the other side of the room, and Bucky jumped out, a purring grey cat cradled in his arms. He was making cooing noises at it, not seeming to realize there was anyone else in the room. The elevator dinged and Sam walked in, grumbling, only to freeze at the scene before him.

"I'm gonna call him Nibbles!" Bucky declared, still not looking up from the purring cat.

Tony began to splutter, gesturing randomly from Steve, the cat, Bucky and the grate. He froze, staring at Bucky with the best 'is this really happening' face of all time. "... _Nibbles_?"

Bucky, still with a huge grin on his face, finally looked up from the cat- Nibbles- to tell Tony _Yes,_ _Nibbles,_ only to completely freeze when he made eye contact with Steve. His smile fell, eyes widened. His grip on Nibbles unconsciously tightened and the cat gave an annoyed meow, lightly clawing at Bucky's fingers to make him drop him. He hopped up onto the couch and curled up on a pillow.

Bucky seemed too shocked to notice.

Steve's breath hitched as he took in the sight of his lost friend, still a bit wet from last night, dirty and skinny, the only clean part of him being the new metal arm, while covered in bruises and neon band aids.

His legs began to move before he'd even given the command for them to, and then he was standing right in front of Bucky and his arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close. Steve's eyes felt oddly wet.

Bucky jumped almost an inch, pushing himself out of the Captains grip before he could get a good hold on him, standing almost defensively. "What- What are you doing?"

"I'm... hugging you." said Steve slowly, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Blinking, brow furrowing in confusion, Bucky searched his shattered memory to give the word a purpose- a meaning. But none came. "... Hugging?"

"Well, yeah, hugging..." Steve said, his voice getting rather quiet, eyes widening a bit as realization smacked him in the face. "Don't you... remember being hugged?"

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to answer that. Steve's shoulders slumped.

"Oh, _Bucky_." Steve pulled him into another _hug_ , holding him tightly against his broad chest, almost protectively, as if he was afraid that if he let go, Bucky would disappear. Said ex-assassin tensed, but slowly let his shoulders relax and leaned into Steve's touch with a soft sigh. But he didn't really know what to do with his hands, so just left them hanging awkwardly at his sides.

Sam walked up to stand beside Tony, crossing his arms and giving the reunited duo a happy grin. Tony, however, was starring at Nibbles in shock, slowly shaking his head.

He was going to kill Clint.

* * *

Tony let them all stay at the Tower for as long as they liked, locking Nibbles up in an empty guest room so he didn't use the toilet anywhere else in the house, before vanishing into the lab with Bruce when he arrived. As Sam took a well deserved nap on the couch, Steve decided to take his own look at Bucky's injuries.

"Steve..."

"Hm?" Steve said, peeling the neon band aids off of Bucky's arm so he could rub cream on them. Bucky himself was sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Stark's already had a look at me, you don't need-"

"Yes, I do." Steve insisted, uncapping the cream. "Tony's better with machines then live bodies anyway."

"... Live?"

"You're filthy." the Captain muttered, more to himself then Bucky, rubbing his fingers along his hand and coming away with dirt. "When was the last time you bathed?"

"Sometime before our little fight." Bucky said. "You know... where I tried to kill you... and you _dropped_ your _shield_..." To the soldiers surprise, Steve began to look sheepish. _Good._ He shouldn't be purposefully disarming himself during a fight and then refusing to fight.

"Wait, you haven't been properly clean in six months?" Steve gaped.

"Well, it's not _my_ fault!" Bucky exclaimed defensively. "It's a little hard to pay the water bill when you don't have any money to give them."

"You got a house?"

"Apartment." he corrected. "Couple blocks from here. It's rather crappy though. I've been trying to find decent work so I can pay the bills or else I'll loose it at the start of next month."

Steve was silent, focusing on coating Bucky's cuts with the cream. He put the lid back on, and fished out some more band aids (also neon colored), placing them over the cuts gently. When he placed the last one on Bucky's forehead, he gave it a quick kiss, before packing the cream and box of band aids away.

Bucky, startled by the kiss, blinked at the super soldier dumbly, before slowly sliding off the counter. Steve put the med-kit back in the cupboard, before turning to look Bucky up and down, lips pressing into an unsatisfied line. He grabbed the soldiers hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before dragging him into the hallway.

"Where- ?"

"We're just going to clean you up a bit." Steve answered before the question was even finished. "I think I've got some clothes that'll fit you."

"You don't have to-"

"I know. I want to though."

That shut Bucky up for the time being, mostly because he didn't know how to respond.

Steve dragged him into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. Sitting Bucky down on the toilet seat, Steve bent down next to the bathtub and turned the tap on, filling it.

While the tub filled, he turned to Bucky. He grabbed the soldiers shirt and pulled it up over his head, setting it down on the floor. Bucky looked surprisingly small without his shirt on, but that was probably because you could count his ribs. When was the last time, before this morning of course, that he'd had a decent meal?

He pulled his boots off next, then socks, before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off as well, leaving the soldier in just his boxers.

Bucky was tense, looking at the Captain uncertainly. Was he really about to give him a bath like you would a two year old? Then again, HYDRA had made him almost child-like, when he wasn't on the battlefield at least. But that wasn't the point.

The bath was filled, and Steve stuck his hand in it to check the temperature, before turning off the tap. He turned back to Bucky, gripping his boxers and about to pull them off, when the soldiers hand shot up and gripped his wrist.

Steve blinked, looking up to give his friend a questioning look. Bucky wasn't meeting his eyes, shifting uncomfortably, and he flinched when Steve looked at him. His hand shook slightly as he forced himself to let go of the super soldiers wrist.

Taking his hand in his, Steve rubbed soothing circles on Bucky's palm to comfort him, giving it a small squeeze before letting go and pulling off the boxers swiftly. Even though he'd seen Bucky naked before (this wasn't the first time they'd done this, seeing as how they'd taken baths together as kids and Bucky would wash Skinny-Steve after a pretty bad beating, sometimes even stripping down himself and joining him), he gave the memory-whipped man some privacy, keeping his eyes firmly on his face.

"Alright, hop in." Steve said, gesturing to the waiting tub.

Years of not questioning orders kicked in, and Bucky was immediately on his feet and sinking into the warm water. Steve gave him a small smile, grabbing a pink bottle of shampoo, body wash and a sponge.

The clean water soon turned a murky brown, and Bucky found himself relaxing at Steve's gentle touch, even leaning into it. Steve scrubbed the muck from his back and chest, even gave his metal arm a (rather unnecessary) scrub down. He washed his hair with shampoo and conditioner, washing it out with a little cup.

When the Captain was finally satisfied, he had Bucky stand up and wrapped a fluffy towel around him, sitting him back on the toilet.

Reaching into the filthy water, Steve pulled the plug and the water began to drain out of the tub. Grabbing another towel, he began drying Bucky's hair, arms, torso and legs. Bucky sat completely still throughout the whole process.

Setting the towel to the side, Steve stood. "Stay here, I'll be right back." he said, slipping out of the bathroom. He jogged to his bedroom and opened his chest of drawers, ruffling through the neatly folded clothes in search for something that'll fit the smaller soldier best.

Pulling out a white t-shirt and a pair of grey joggy bottoms, Steve draped them over his arm like a waiter would with a napkin, closing the drawer with his hip and returning to the bathroom where Bucky was thankfully still sitting.

He didn't want to think about what he'd do if he left again.

Once Bucky had pulled the clothes on with a tiny, thankful smile, Steve grabbed the dirty clothes and towel and threw them into the laundry hamper to be washed later, before taking Bucky's hand again and leading him back into the living room.

Sam snored away on the recliner, headphones in, and Steve and Bucky sat down on the couch.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked quietly.

Bucky gave him a confused look. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

Steve just gave him a small smile. "No reason." He wrapped his arm around Bucky's waist, pulling the smaller soldier into his lap, not unlike how Bucky would do with him when he'd still been tiny and sick.

Bucky shifted, letting out a surprised noise, but didn't try to pull away. His head rested just above Steve's heart, listening to the steady _thump, thump_ it made. Steve held him close, resting his chin on top of the freshly cleaned hair. He looked a lot better now, and without the dirt to darken his features he was a little pale.

Rubbing circles on the small of Bucky's back, Steve hummed _Star Spangled Man With A Plan_ , gripping Bucky's metal wrist with his other hand.

The smaller soldier's breathing began to even out, his eyelids dropping as sleep slowly began to take him. For the first time since he could remember (which wasn't much, but still), he felt safe.

For the first time in seventy years, Bucky could see a tiny part of his reflection.

* * *

You Can Fix A Broken Mirror,

But The Cracks Will Always Remain.

* * *

 **So, whatdya think? This is just a one-shot, but I MIGHT turn it into a two-shot at a (much) later date. MIGHT.**

 **For a long time, I've had this fantasy that Tony finds Bucky, doesn't tell Steve, and presents him on his birthday or Christmas or something. I also like to think he did it solely because he'd forgotten to get Steve a gift.**

 **But in this little story, it's Bucky who goes to Tony :) And yes, I am NOT looking forward to Civil War. I'm going to watch it, of course, but it'll probably take me a while to work up the nerve. I think Bucky and Tony would have been good friends, not great but good, if only because Tony wants to tinker with his metal arm.**

 **Anyway, I KNOW I should be working on _I Just Wanna Be Okay_ , but I was on Pinterest and I saw a load of Avengers head cannons about Bucky and... this little beauty was born.**

 **I'm rather proud of it, actually.**

 **So, review?**


End file.
